Passed Over

We'd been married for over ten years. For most of that time the marriage had been good, exceptionally good in fact. But as with many things, as time marched on, the vibrancy in the marriage began to fade. There wasn't any particular incident that started it, just slowly over time things began to change. It happened so slowly it wasn't something I even noticed as the time. But there was no denying after ten years things started to become stale and routine.

I thought it was bound to happen in any long-term relationship. It's easy when everything is shiny and new, but that glow inevitably wears off. I think for me, that was less of an issue than it was for her. That made sense I thought. Afterall, I was the one that fell head over heels for her. When we first met, she had a boyfriend. I'm not sure how serious she considered the relationship, but I did everything I could to win her over. Eventually I did, but it took more than a year, and even then somewhere in the back of my mind I always felt inferior. I never felt she was attracted to me in the same way she was with him.

Still, we had a good relationship. We seemed to mesh and bring out the best in each other. We both were successful professionals and led good and fulfilling lives together. I for one adored her. To this day I distinctly remember the way I felt when I first saw her. She was exactly my type. Brunette hair, fair skin, big brown eyes, and a petite toned body. She had it all together, and on top of that she was stylish as well. She always wore clothes that suited her perfectly. Needless to say, she attracted a lot of male attention. I can't say for sure if that bothered me, but somewhere in the back of my head I was a little jealous. But another part of me liked the attention she got; she was mine after all.

Honestly, ten years into the marriage I was still highly attracted to her. Even as she neared forty, she still possessed most of the same qualities she did when I met her. Except now, with the experience that life and success brings, she carried herself with even more style and grace.

Our sex life was good at first. She liked how I was so eager to please. I don't think she'd been with any men before that treated her the way I did. Our personalities were such that she naturally assumed a more dominant role. She was the one that typically initiated sex, and almost always, she was the one on top.

It was interesting, because during sex she would rarely make any noise. I was the one that was loud, the one that would moan and groan and call out her name. The only way I could tell if she came, was the subtle way she would throw her head back and the way her eyes would roll back in her head.

As the marriage progressed, I could sense things getting stale, not in the marriage itself but in our sex life. I spent a lot of time trying to come up with ideas to spice things up. I was open to explore and experiment, but for the most part whenever I suggested anything different she seemed reluctant. I for one, would have been willing to do anything she wanted.

One night, our sex life did take a slightly different turn. Every year near Christmas my company hosts a swanky party at a high-end hotel. Everyone gets dressed up in formal attire, eats a fancy dinner, and mingles past midnight with an open bar. We usually booked a room at the hotel to avoid having to drive home after drinking all night. It was our one special night of the year.

About two years ago my wife bought this elegant dark blue evening gown for the occasion. The dresses women wear to the party tend to be like what celebrities might wear to the Oscars. For her, it was a long blue dress with a semi-open back along with a plunging neckline. It fit her body perfectly and the way the sequins reflected the light in the dimly lit room highlighted her every curve. I saw more than a few men looking her way and overheard others ogling. I admit seeing her receive such attention made me jealous. Part of me wanted to confront the men I heard talking about her. But at the same time knowing they were looking at my wife, and not their own, excited me.

I couldn't keep my eyes off her either. She seemed to flitter about the room with such confidence and grace. Watching the way her hips moved when she walked made me rock hard in the middle of the party, and this was a woman I'd been with for years.

By the time the party ended I'd had more than a few drinks and I was ready to go up to the room with my wife. I distinctly remember the elevator ride up to the 32

nd

floor. My wife and I had gotten onto the elevator first and at the last second another couple jumped in as well. Not a word was spoken as the elevator started its ride upward, but my wife must have sensed the effect she had on me. Standing in the back of the elevator she discretely placed her hand between my legs to feel my hardness.

I saw a hint of a smile form on her lips as she touched me, and then she began to slowly stroke my hard cock through my pants as the couple in front of us stood oblivious. It seemed out of character for her, which is why I think I found it so erotic. It didn't take long before I felt the point of no return fast approaching. My eyes closed tightly, and a faint whimper escaped from my lips as I tried to hold it off, and at just that moment my wife pulled her hand away and stopped.

My eyes opened and my body was left shaking as I stood there. I could feel my cock throbbing in my pants. My wife stood silently as she tried to hide her grin, looking straight ahead as if nothing had even happened. I was in a daze as we stepped out of the elevator and onto the 32

nd

floor leaving the other couple behind to finish their ride. My wife went first, her hips swaying seductively as she walked down the faintly lit hallway.

With my cock aching in my pants, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She unlocked the door to our room, went inside, and sauntered toward the bed. With the sexy blue dress still on she positioned herself on all fours in the middle of the bed. Seeing her like that, on the bed, after being turned on watching her all night, made my head spin. It was like I was acting on autopilot.

I got up on the bed, and from behind I slowly pushed the long sequined dress up over her hips. I savored the view before revealing a blue thong that perfectly matched her dress. What happened next wasn't something I had planned or had even thought about before. It just happened in the pure spontaneity of the moment.

I pulled her panties down over her hips, along her legs and past her heels. Soon she was there, down on all fours on the bed completely exposed. Almost as if by instinct I leaned forward and ran my tongue gently along the crack of her ass. Her body jumped at first, as if it weren't something she expected, but as I continued she relaxed.

I lingered on her ass, slowly sliding my tongue back and forth along her crack. I could feel her body begin to tense and tighten in anticipation. Every time she did I would slow down and stop, and fondle her hips with my hands, or lightly kiss the cheeks of her ass.

The room was silent and mostly dark. The only light was from the city beyond streaming through the windows. She never looked back and never said a word as I continued to lick, fondle, and kiss her ass. I could sense her body craving more. It excited me to see the way she reacted, twisting, and turning her body coaxing me to go deeper. I resisted her pleas until she was at a fever pitch, until finally I placed one hand on each side of her ass and slowly spread her cheeks apart.

As I buried my tongue into her ass her whole body jumped. She quivered with excitement, lunging forward and then back to meet my tongue. She let out a cry I'd never heard her make before. It was quite a surprise to hear her react that way.

Immediately I stopped and pulled away, teasing her by just lightly running my tongue along her crack. Then suddenly I buried my tongue between her cheeks once again as she squealed and jumped at the sensation. I spent the next twenty minutes slowly and seductively licking her followed by quick bursts of burying my tongue in her ass. The sounds she made and the way she reacted excited me to no end. After twenty minutes she collapsed on the bed exhausted and that was it.

We didn't have sex, we didn't do anything else, or at least she didn't. As I sat on the bed next to her in the dark with my cock throbbing, I thought about what it must be like for her sometimes, when we have sex and I'm not able to satisfy her, only for her to be left wanting. It suddenly dawned on me how difficult that must be, to get so turned on and worked up, only for it to end with no real resolution.

For me, it wasn't something I could take. Fifteen minutes after it all ended my cock was still hard and aching. I sat up in bed looking out the window into the city beyond. My wife lay next to me, sleeping soundly, silent, and satiated. It felt odd when I unzipped my pants with my wife less than three feet away. I watched her as I took out my cock and began to stroke it. I thought back to seeing her walk across the room at the party, watching men stare at her as she went. I thought back to the sounds she made less than an hour before as I licked her ass.

I felt extremely self-conscious as I stroked myself. What if she woke up and caught me? What would she think? The thought of being caught overwhelmed me with embarrassment, but still, I couldn't stop. I tried to be quiet but the intensity of the night, of being denied for so long was irrepressible. I'm not sure I was aware of it in the moment as I felt the orgasm build, but before long I began to whimper. As soon as I realized it, I tried to control myself but by then it was too late. I gasped out loud as the orgasm came and I felt the cum climb up my shaft and spray from my cock. Spurt after spurt of hot sticky cum flew everywhere, covering my shirt and my pants. The feeling of the orgasm was intense. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had such a release.

As I lay there in the dark panting, trying to catch my breath and recover, I looked over at my wife. I couldn't tell for sure, but it seemed to me there was the slightest of grins pursed across her lips. I froze as I looked at her, my entire body tingling, wondering what was running through her mind as she saw me sitting alone in bed, covered in my own cum.

The next day, neither of us said a word about the night before. If she had seen me masturbating beside her, she didn't let on. She didn't utter a word about having her ass licked either. It was strange in a way, as if the previous night had never happened.

Things continued much as the same for the next month. Our relationship continued much as it had before. We talked, we got along, we encouraged each other in our careers. There was sex, two times maybe, but it was much as it always had been. It began with her initiating things, with her on top, silent and composed, and me on bottom making all the noise. If was almost as if the normal male and female roles had been reversed.

Late one Friday night, she was baking cookies in the kitchen while I was watching television in the living room. The open floor plan of our house made it easy to look toward the kitchen and see her. Much like at the party when she wore the blue dress, she carried herself with a sense of confidence as she moved about the kitchen. She was deliberate and focused on her movements in a way that compelled me to look. She was wearing nothing but an oversized button-down blouse that made me want to look even more.

I sensed that she caught me eyeing her more than once, but she never let on or said a word about it. She just kept going about the business of making cookies when suddenly the mixer stopped. I watched as she bent over and pulled several cookie sheets from the counter. If was then that she called me over.

I asked what she wanted and she said that she wanted me in the kitchen. I paused the show I was watching and did as she asked. I stood next to her as she started gathering the dough to make into balls to put onto the cookie sheets. Without saying a word, she lifted the back of her blouse to uncover her naked ass.

She held the blouse up long enough to make it clear what she wanted without having to say it out loud. I found myself surprised she was so blatant about what she wanted, and my heart skipped a beat. It wasn't like I was told what to do, I just knew. Soon I was on my knees behind her and gently running my tongue along the crack of her ass. As I did, she continued with the cookie dough, kneading the dough into little balls, and placing them on the cookie sheets.

It was a strange feeling, being on my knees behind her, licking her ass, as she went about her business. It made me feel extremely submissive, as if I couldn't say a thing, and had to do exactly what she wanted. It was odd, because she hadn't forced me to do anything, yet at the same time I felt like I had no choice. It felt like I was nothing but her little toy, strictly there for her amusement. In a sense, I was.

It started much like it had the month before in the hotel room, with me gently running my tongue along the crack of her ass, fondling her hips, and kissing her ass cheeks. It continued that way for most of the time she was rolling out the balls of cookie dough. As soon as she finished with the dough it was clear she wanted more, and unlike before she wasn't willing to wait. As soon as she put the dough aside, she reached back behind and grabbed an ass cheek in each hand, gently pulling them apart. She didn't need to direct me; I knew what I needed to do.

She jumped as soon as I buried my tongue between in her ass, making the same whimper and squeals and she had before. When the feeling became too intense she would let go of her ass and I would go back to gently licking and kissing her. When she was ready for more she'd spread her ass cheeks again and the entire process repeated itself.

Soon though, I became the one spreading her ass cheeks as she would use her arms to brace herself against the kitchen island so I could more vigorously lick her. When she had finally had enough she let me know by pushing down her blouse to cover herself before going back to her cookies. Then she grabbed the cookie sheets and placed them in the waiting over as I watched from my knees. Just like that it was over, and she left the kitchen for the living room without saying a word.

The entire incident had a strange effect on me. I'm not sure how to describe it. But it made me feel small, emasculated even. Like it was obvious she wanted more but knew that I couldn't give it to her. It was like making me lick her ass was her way of pointing that out. Strangely enough, the silence of the act served to reinforce that feeling. I had a hard time imagining her treating another man like she just treated me, having me lick her ass while she baked cookies. I honestly didn't know how to process it all.

That's when my inferiority complex started to kick in. I was constantly worried about being able to satisfy my wife sexually. I sensed that she was craving more but I had no idea how to give it to her. With the way she turned me on, it was rare that I lasted very long during sex. A minute or two at the most. I started researching ways to last longer online. I tried various techniques when I masturbated but nothing seemed to help. Neither did any kind of desensitizing cream.

When we did have sex and she'd ride me, I always got the sense she was disappointed when I couldn't last. She never said anything, it was just how she reacted and the way she looked at me after it was over. Early on in our relationship she told me she liked it that she could make me cum so fast. She said she liked knowing how much she turned me on and how I couldn't help myself. But I think as our marriage went on, she became frustrated that I couldn't last. I got the distinct feeling that she felt that she deserved more.

Still, for the most part our relationship was good. It was mainly our sex life that suffered. Sex became less and less frequent, which had the unwelcome side effect of making me last even less. As the amount sexual contact decreased, when it did happen it made me even more excited, which in turn made things end even quicker.

I was at a loss for what to do to make things better. I felt emasculated knowing I couldn't satisfy her. This started a slow downward spiral where my feelings of inadequacy led her to treat me differently. The sex almost evaporated and I understood. From her point of view, what was the point? She would ride me for a minute only for me to cum and leave her disappointed and wanting. I tried to do other things, foreplay, oral sex, toys, everything I could think of basically. Nothing seemed to help. The main thing that got her off was me licking her ass. She seemed to revel in that, but at the times it happened were few and far between. I felt like it was something she purposedly avoided doing often so the effect wouldn't be lessened. I'm sure in her mind that was the only thing she had left.

To help deal with the frustration and to help distract her, she poured herself into her job. I followed her lead and did the same thing. I devoted myself to my job hoping that success there would change how she saw me. I thought maybe that some big promotion would somehow rekindle our sex life, knowing how valuable and respected I was at work.

For all I know that may have worked had I gotten the chance. As it was, I knew there was the potential for a big promotion at work coming soon. I felt like it was mine to lose, and I was excited about the prospects. I told my wife about it, and she was genuinely happy for me. It seemed to put a spark in her step that had been fading over time. The only problem was I didn't get the promotion. I was devastated. To make matters worse, I disliked the guy who got the promotion over me, and who I would now be working for. Not only that, but he had gotten the promotion despite being five years younger with far less experience. It was quite a blow to say the least.

I could tell my wife was disappointed when I told her, even though she did her best to try and console me. I hated the fact that I would soon have a boss I detested. I hated even more when I had to tell my wife who it was that had gotten the promotion instead of me.

My wife had known Mike for a couple of years. She met him one year at the annual Christmas party, and had seen him at other company get togethers as well. He was one of the men I heard openly ogling her the night she wore the blue dress. When she found out Mike had gotten the promotion, she seemed genuinely intrigued. She even went so far as to say she thought Mike would be a good boss for me. I didn't quite know how to take it all. The shock took several weeks to wear off.

Even though I was disappointed in the outcome, I tried to make the best of it. I worked even harder trying to prove my worth to Mike and the rest of management. It seemed an uphill battle though, and no matter how hard I tried I seemed to go nowhere.

More than two months after the promotion, my wife and I still hadn't had sex. My plan to make things better had backfired. She seemed less interested than ever, and I felt even more discouraged. She threw herself into her work, sometimes working more than twelve-hour days and not getting home until late. To comfort myself I begam doing the same thing. Whenever she indicated she would be working late, I would stay late at the office as well. There was no point in going home I thought, my wife wouldn't be there and I would just be alone. Besides, I thought the extra time spent working would help me get ahead.

It wasn't long before I noticed that whenever my wife let me know she wouldn't be home until late, Mike always seemed to leave the office a little early. The first time or two I chalked it up to coincidence and tried to talk myself out of being so paranoid. There was no way I thought. She barely knew him and how would they get together anyway. The fourth or fifth time it happened though, I thought surely that can't be a coincidence.